


Cash or Check

by cklondon



Category: Dalton Academy Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Historical, Drinking, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating to be updated, Smoking, aka opposite of slowburn, but just a few of them, fluff? perhaps, i'm not gonna tag the glee characters but they're in here, speedrun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25156717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cklondon/pseuds/cklondon
Summary: Falling comes easily, figuring out the logistics takes work.1920s Rane AU featuring many other background Dalton characters and relationships.
Relationships: Shane Anderson/Reed Van Kamp
Comments: 5
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some aspects of this AU are historically accurate, some are not. I've taken many liberties with social norms and expectations because as a queer person I like to see happy queer stories in any time period. I will include notes about any potentially upsetting or triggering content chapter by chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end of chapter notes for potentially triggering content.

His shoes made a sharp clicking sound as they came into contact with the worn concrete, not that he could hear them over the hustle of the city. New shoes, like everything else. New shoes, new clothes, new hat, new people, and a new city for a new man in New York. He stopped at the foot of a building that bore his own name over the door. 

  
He stopped to take in the scent of New York at noon, breathing in the whole of Manhattan. He could smell everything—the perfume of two debutantes walking carelessly through the heart of the world, the rising aroma of fresh-baked bread from a restaurant just down the way, the sweat of men laboring in the air on the construction of another one of man’s attempts to graze the heavens as they baked in the sun. 

  
The all-encompassing city called to him, as it had to hordes of young men just like him, a siren song promising adventure, life, meaning, and love. The young man felt as if he could pocket the entire island and call it his own. But in that instant, he had to settle for the anticipation of it all. Instead, he grinned zealously and boldly proceeded through the double glass doors at the entrance of his family’s fortune.

* * *

“Shane, I really don’t have time for this.” 

  
“Don’t have time for your own brother? Whatever happened to the ‘family business?’” Shane smirked, a sly light of recognition twinkling in the corner of his eye. He laughed unashamedly.

  
His brother smiled somewhat tensely at him, pausing from browsing through stacks of paper piled high on his desk.

  
“You think you’d say something a bit different, you know? It’s only been, what, eight months since we last saw each other?” Shane placed his hands in his pockets and began inspecting his brother’s office with quasi-interest.

  
“Hello, Shane,” the other brother offered, a sharp edge to his voice. “When did you get into town?”

  
“I’ll be damned, Blaine, New York’s gotten to you.”

  
“I have a lot to do. Some of us actually work, you know.”

  
“Oh, I know.” Shane peered through a pair of curtains onto the street below.

  
“So what are you doing here?” Blaine seemed to relax some. 

  
“Just wandering, I suppose. Colorado’s boring as Hell and I’ve done everything I could think of there. So what else is a bachelor like me supposed to do? Come pay his dear, dear brother a visit in the exotic wonderland of New York.”

  
“Well you can do one or the other. I’m afraid I don’t see much of anything exotic or wonderful anymore,” Blaine informed him as he ducked below his desk to reach a drawer.

  
“Really, Blaine? What’s the point of living here if you don’t enjoy it?”  
He huffed in reply.

  
“You know what you need is a good walkabout. When’s the last time you had a frisk?”  
“A what?”

  
“You know what I mean.”

  
Blaine rolled his eyes. “Shane, no.”

  
“I’m serious. A bit of an affair might help you to loosen up.”

  
“You know why I can’t do that.”

  
“Oh, right, right, right. Can’t smear the family name and all that.”

  
“It’s more than that.” Blaine paused and pursed his lips. “I can’t afford to be caught with anyone.”

  
“I swear, taking over the company has changed you.”

  
“I haven’t taken over yet.”

  
“Oh, that’s right. Dear Ole’ Dad hasn’t quite handed the reins over yet. Good luck waiting for that one.”

  
“You know if we weren’t here doing this, there wouldn’t be any money for you to indulge your Bohemian fantasies. What is it this time? Music? Poetry?”

  
“Dance, actually.”

  
Blaine stopped in his process of paperwork. He looked up at his brother, who now stood directly in front of his desk, looking as comfortable as ever, and raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

  
“If I’m going to take up a hobby, might as well learn something charming, right?”

  
“Alright then.”

  
“So are you going to show me the city soon, or am I going to have to discover it for myself?”

  
“Dear God, you alone in New York. The island’ll be sunk by this time tomorrow.”

  
“Then that settles it.”

* * *

“Mrs. Van Kamp? A young ‘Miss Lark’ is here.”

  
“Oh, yes. Reed, go see to her. Make sure this one doesn’t try to steal the clothes this time. We don’t want a repeat of the Bancroft incident.” 

  
“Yes ma’am,” a young man spoke up from his position beside his mother. They stood over a spread for the upcoming edition of Vogue, before sending it off with the Van Kamp seal of approval for publishing. He briskly set off out of the spacious office.

  
After the door had closed behind him, Mrs. Van Kamp turned towards her secretary. “He’s too polite for my taste. Why, at that age, I’d already made a name for myself in this business.” She drew away from the display table and fished a cigarette box out of her pocket. She proceeded to light one and take a long drag to lengthen her patience. “And I have no idea what he plans on doing with that ridiculous inclination towards art.”

  
“Maybe he just does it for the pretty young ladies.”

  
Mrs. Van Kamp shot her secretary a look that warned her not to say another word if she had any plans of working ever again. After all, jobs of this level didn’t come easily, if at all. “No. I’m convinced that has nothing to do with it.”

  
The secretary stood in the presence of the legend uncomfortably. She squirmed under that icy gaze and played with the hem of her sleeves.

  
“I swear, the boy needs to straighten out some before he’s fit for any sort of real position here.”

  
“Oh, I don’t know about that… He is still very young after all.”

* * *

Rain poured on, washing the streets of upper Manhattan in a vile-smelling shower of rebellion. Despite the soaking streets and sheets of water falling from the sky, people littered the sidewalks, making it impossible to walk in a straight line. Reed’s stomach churned like the muddy water sloshing around motor cars, flying up in a new disturbance, dancing in the air for the briefest of minutes before falling back to the earth to hit the bottom and start again. 

  
“I’ve never been north of 110th Street,” he admitted to the strange man who had insisted on bringing him along to this wild part of the city.

  
“You’re kidding,” he replied in a flat, yet somehow shocked, tone. The crowds of people didn’t seem to faze him in the slightest. He slithered around them, keeping his head high and his eyes searching for something just beyond his line of sight. Reed had to struggle not only to keep up with him but also to feel like he kept his attention.

  
“Well, erm… I’ve just never really had reason, I suppose.” 

  
“You’re gonna be comin’ up here every night, kid.” 

  
The uneasiness crept up Reed’s throat again, but a buzzing excitement in his stomach kept him going. “What did you say your name was again?”

  
“Smythe. Sebastian Smythe.” 

  
“Well now that we’re here, Mr. Smythe, could you tell me why you brought me along?”

  
“I know your type, you see. Too much money to buy a life. Never had a fling? Hate those girls Dear Ole’ Mum brings around? Lemme ask you, kid, you like any of those vamps she brings around? Of course not. I’m guessin’ you don’t even have an interest in dames, huh?”

  
Reed gaped. “You… You ask a lot of questions.”

  
“‘Course I do. How else is anyone supposed to pay attention to me? Anyway, you need a trip with some fella to set you right. Ever been to Paris?”  
“Why, yes.”

  
Sebastian smirked and pushed his hands into his pockets, shoulders pushed forward to lead him on. “Not the right parts, I bet.” Reed had to admit, this stranger had some dark, alluring quality to him, no matter how obnoxious he seemed. Never before had someone walked into the office, much less a delivery boy in rolled-up sleeves with no jacket, and practically kidnapped Reed to go explore the lively parts of his home city. 

  
“Can I ask you something?” Reed ventured.

  
“Sure.” 

  
“Why did you bring me out here?”

  
“Like I said, I got a sort of talent. I can tell who needs to breathe some air north of Central Park.”

  
“And what do you get out of it?”

  
“What do you mean by that?”

  
“Do you benefit at all from taking... ‘boys like me’ to places like this?”

  
“Buddy of mine runs this joint around here. I promise to keep bringing new boys, he lets me drink for free.” 

  
“New boys? What for? What are you talking about?” 

  
That smirk returned to Sebastian’s face. But before Reed could demand his answer, he had knocked on the door of a storefront. A bearded man came to the door.   
“Evening, Joe!” Sebastian hollered with an eager grin. 

  
Joe nodded. “‘Bastian.” A thick Slavic accent scraped through in his voice. 

  
“Tell Seigerson I’m here, will ya’?”

  
He nodded again, then opened the door. The two stepped in. Only one dim light from an unshaded lamp illuminated rows of pianos on the floor.  
“What is this place?” Reed asked.

  
“Piano shop by day. Don’t want anybody knowing who’s not supposed to be here.” The other man led them through a door that entered an office. Somebody had already pushed aside a massive wardrobe that apparently once lay in the middle of the wall. But where it stood now showed a thick wooden door, towards which Sebastian casually made his way, whistling a low-pitched tune. 

  
“You gonna love this,” he told Reed right before he opened the door, his eyes twinkling invitingly but with more than a hint of mischief. 

  
The door opened and another world waited on the other side. The music hit Reed first. He didn’t know how he couldn’t have heard it from a block away. A man sat at one of two grand pianos centered in the room, playing a jazzy riff without a care. A group encircled him and cheered on, laughing, shouting, and singing along. Across the back ran a wall of tarnished mirrors, and a bar parallel to that. Besides the pianos and patrons, nothing sat on the main floor; the few, scattered tables and chairs were pushed to the sides to make more room for dancing. A few couples had already started. 

* * *

Reed sat at the bar, mystified but completely out of place. It looked like everybody else had arrived in couples or groups, making him aware of how few friends he had.  
A hand placed on his shoulder scared him nearly out of his wits. He jumped, almost falling off his barstool.

  
“Oh you poor thing,” a soft voice crooned. He turned to see an impeccably well-dressed woman next to him, reaching out in a gesture of comfort. She wore a merlot-colored dress with stylish satin trim and a scarf around her neck tied into a large bow. The netting on her fascinator cast eerie shadows over her eyes, she had a warm smile in a lip stain that matched her dress.

  
Reed didn’t even realize that he had been staring at her until she spoke again. “You look so confused, is anything wrong?” She kept herself poised and spoke with practiced polish. 

  
“No, no, I’m fine,” he said it to assure himself more than anyone else. “It’s just that…” he had no idea where to begin. “Well, you see, I was dragged here by a stranger. I don’t know who he is or where I am or what I’m even doing here. I’ve never really done this before, you see, and I don’t know anyone. Unless you count that stranger…”  
She cocked her head. “Was his name Sebastian?”

  
“I think so?” Reed really couldn’t remember. He cursed himself for letting some stranger pull him away to some seedy cellar where he didn’t know anybody.

  
The woman sighed. “Of course it was. Well, dear, I want you to know that you’re perfectly alright here. Just don’t let anyone know you come from money.”

  
“How do you know I come from money?” he asked in amazement.

  
“Let me put it this way--don’t tell anyone who brought you here, and try not to look so nervous.”

  
Reed gave a bit of an alarmed shake. How was he to know he seemed nervous?

  
“If you need anything, love, my name is Merril.” Merril smiled sweetly at him. “And this,” she turned around for a minute, then swung back with a man on her arm, “is my Spencer.” 

  
“Oh, are you two married?” 

  
Spencer gave a tart smile. Merril laughed. 

  
“Oh no, dear, nothing like that.” Merril turned to Spencer and ran a hand along the side of his face lovingly. 

  
Spencer returned her look before focusing his Attention on Reed and offering him his hand. “Like my girl here said, my name’s Spencer. Spencer Willis.”

  
Reed shook his hand. “Reed Van Kamp.”

  
“So Reed, what do you do in New York?”

  
“Well, I’m only twenty-two so I—” the thought of his job cut him short. He felt like he shouldn’t tell these people that he worked for his mother. After an awkward break he continued, “I’m apprenticing right now for a magazine.”

  
“Apprenticing?” Merril looked intrigued. 

  
“Yes, of sorts,” he couldn’t look either of them in the eye when he said it. 

  
“Magazine?” asked Spencer, taking his turn to show interest. “Which one?”

  
“What? Oh. Um. Vogue.” 

  
“That so?” he looked Reed up and down as if dissecting him. 

  
Reed felt uneasy and confused under that gaze. “Erm, yes,” he said.

  
Merril could pick up on cues much better than either of the men and made a quick transition. “I know he won’t want me to tell you this, Reed, but I’m sure that Spencer’s very jealous to be talking to someone in the world of printing. After all, that’s a very artistic job, isn’t it? Ever since getting back, Spencer’s been trying to make a career for himself as an artist.”

  
Reed didn’t have to ask what Merril had meant by “getting back.” He still carried himself like a soldier, upright and dignified. Until this point, Reed hadn’t noticed it. He also had not noticed how Spencer leaned so heavily against the back of the barstool in which Merril sat to keep himself upright, or the crutches resting against the bar beside him. He put none of his weight on his right foot, though he tried to conceal it. It made for an interesting sight, as he could not physically maintain the militaristic demeanor that looked so natural on him, as if it had been ingrained into his temperament long before joining the military.

  
Reed’s curious stare had lasted too long. He could tell because Merril, ever the diplomat, changed the subject again. “Reed, it would make me absolutely thrilled if you let us buy you a drink. What do you say?” Her voice danced up and down the range of an octave.

  
Reed smiled. “That would be wonderful, thank you!”

  
Merril turned to Spencer. “You don’t have to stay, Spence. You can run along and play cards if you want to.” Her voice hinted at a giggle at the end of her sentence.  
“Alright.” He tipped his head just enough to politely leave. “See you around, Reed.” 

  
He walked off, leaving behind his crutches and sauntering away with a stiff limp. 

  
Merril turned around again to the bar. She waved down the bartender and ordered two lemon mint fizzes, which Reed had never heard of.

  
The bartender returned with two tall glasses. Reed took a tentative sip out of his.

  
“I thought bootleg liquor was supposed to taste terrible,” he mused.

  
“It does,” Merril told him. “That’s why you add the lemon, mint, syrup, and soda. It hides the flavor.”

  
Reed took a longer sip. “I suppose that makes sense.”

Merril offered her glass for a cheers.

* * *

Shane leaned back against the bar while his brother pondered over a nearly-empty glass. He made the last remaining swig of smuggled whiskey at the bottom spin circles around the edges, a routine that Shane soon found exhausting to watch. 

  
“Would you quit your sulking, Blaine?”

  
“I didn’t want to come here in the first place. Now you want me to get happy about it all of a sudden?”

  
“I’m just suggesting that you might as well take advantage of your situation if you’re really forced to be here, that’s all.”

  
“Why do you think I never do this sort of thing?” Blaine snapped and shot his attention at his brother as his voice rose. 

  
“Blaine, I just got into town. I really don’t think it’s a good idea to get into this now, do you?”

  
Typically, things turned dour for the brothers when Shane had to provide the voice of reason. But thankfully, another set of brothers sat down on either side of them. 

* * *

A couple of drinks had washed away the rigidity of Reed’s nervousness. Merril had him opened up with laughter and had introduced him to the owner of the speakeasy before long. 

  
“How did you even get started in something like this?” Reed asked him, his guard dropped and his inexperience showing. 

  
The man gave a crooked smile around his cigarette. He took his self-assured time in answering, as he did in everything else. 

  
“Well I was a Princeton man until the War. I was drafted but I got pneumonia the damn week right before my physical. They didn’t let me in the Army. So I had an excuse to not be in school and not to talk to my old man. I found a way to make some quick money and I haven’t gone back or talked to him since. He doesn’t know I never even went to camp and he probably thinks I’m dead. Serves him right, the old bastard.”

  
Normally, Reed would have flinched in surprise. But now he gave a laugh that came from somewhere unknown to him. 

  
The owner took another puff of his cigarette. Its fumes smelled sharp, acrid, and expensive in a way that everybody knew but nobody expected, much like the man himself. Merril had introduced him as something starting with an S, perhaps Spielman, but that didn’t sound quite right. He still had plenty of time to learn that night. 

  
“So now I have this place. I’m just doing what I like. No stress, no expectations. I got plenty of time to do what I want and plenty of ways to make the girls happy.” Here, he winked at Merril and she giggled without blushing. “I help out a friend or two get a gig when they need it.” He nodded across the dance floor where a young man sat at the piano playing like he had sold his soul to the keys and in exchange they gave him life. “You a performer, kid?” The man nodded at Reed. 

  
“No,” he replied. 

  
“Good. Seems like everyone is nowadays. Always looking for a bone. But don’t get me wrong, the job definitely comes with its perks.” He surveyed his small domain, taking it in with pride. His eyes rested thoughtfully on a table in the corner and he turned towards Merril thoughtfully. 

  
“The kid’s clean, right? There’s no way someone like him’s involved with anyone we’d rather not have around these parts.”

  
She shrugged. “How should I know? I’ve only just met him. One of your boys brought him, though, so I would imagine he’s nothing to hide.” 

* * *

“I’m sorry, who the hell are you?” Blaine looked offended at the very notion that a stranger might sit beside him, so he did not take well to two identical well-built blonds sandwiching him and his brother between them. 

  
“Evan,” said the one next to him. 

  
“Ethan,” chimed in the one on the other side of Shane.

  
“Brightman,” they chorused together. They carried out the routine with such seamlessness that Blaine knew they had to have practiced it beforehand. After a few drinks, his head spun when he flipped it back and forth to keep up with their split dialogue. He questioned if he had started seeing double, for the two not only looked alike, but dressed exactly the same from their low-drawn caps to their polished patent leather loafers. 

  
Shane, on the other hand, looked absolutely thrilled by their presence. He beamed at one then the other in no attempt to hide his excitement. 

  
“You see,” the twin next to Blaine started.

  
“We work for the boss,” the other one finished.

  
“Sigerson, that is.” 

  
“Derek Sigerson if you want the full scoop.”

  
“But don’t go prying.”

  
“Anyway, he’s hired us.”

  
“We make sure his customers have a good time.”

  
“And you two are customers now.”

  
“So what can we do for you?”

  
Shane continued grinning at the twins back and forth. The older Anderson considered them apprehensively. 

  
“We’re not interested in any girls for hire, thank you,” he told them.

  
“Oh no, I don’t think you understand.” 

  
“That’s not what we’re about at all.”

  
“Nothing or nobody for hire.”

  
“We just want to make sure you gentlemen enjoy yourselves.”

  
“Mr. Sigerson takes very good care of his customers.”

  
“So, what would you like out of this evening?”

  
“Well,” Shane stood up, “I can’t speak for my brother here,” he clapped a hand on Blaine’s shoulder, “but I’d find it refreshing to find someone to dance with for a bit.”

  
“Sure thing, chap.”

  
“What kind of girl you going for?” 

  
Shane never lost his grin. “Just someone who can keep up with me.”

  
The twins nodded. “Katherine,” they agreed. 

* * *

Katherine sat in the corner by the band, watching as if she would never get enough of the man at the keys. A tap on either shoulder that brought her back to reality startled the girl. 

  
“God, you boys scared me.” 

  
Evan and Ethan shrugged in unison. 

  
“What can we say?”

  
“We can’t help it you can’t take your eyes off David.” 

  
She gave her head an animated shake, rolling her eyes at the boys in no true annoyance. Her hair, curled into loose ringlets dusting her collarbone, bounced with the same life that put a spark in her eyes. Shane could tell she had enough personality to match his own, an essential trait in a dance partner. 

  
“Kat, we might’ve found you a lead.” 

  
“He’s certainly got the cockiness of a man who can dance well.”

  
“Would you like to test him for us?”

  
If she had not come across as so playful just a moment ago, Shane would have mistaken her smile as seductive. 

  
“Absolutely.” She extended a gloved hand to Shane. He took it in his own and gave it a flourished kiss that testified that he had done this many a time before. 

  
“Shane Anderson, Miss.” 

  
“Please, it’s Katherine. Or Kat if you’re as daring as the twins.”

  
“Your wit makes it all the more a pleasure to meet you.” 

  
They exchanged impish glances. Katherine stood up. 

  
“David, do you mind?” 

  
The pianist adverted his gaze from the keys. “Not at all.” 

  
He and Kat held their glance a moment longer. 

  
“Shane, I would like to introduce you to my fiancé, David Sullivan.

  
Shane nodded in recognition. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Sullivan.” 

  
“Likewise.” David had never even hesitated in his playing this whole time. 

  
“Give us something upbeat, darling. I want to see Mr. Anderson’s fox trot.” Katherine unceremoniously stripped off her gloves, her hands already leading Shane’s to the dance floor. 

  
“So,” she began, pulling him through a maze of tables and people, “Anderson. Irish?” 

  
“That would be correct. At least on my father’s side.” 

  
“But you’re not from Ireland. And you’re clearly not a New Yorker.”

  
“Unbelievably perceptive, too. It’s a shame you’re engaged.”

  
“I don’t think I’m quite your type.” Katherine shot him a knowing glance.

  
Shane could only smile back at her. “Furthering my point. How’d you get to be so clever?” 

  
“Oh don’t worry, dear. Nobody is going to care. We’re all mad here.”

  
She grabbed him in a stance of motion and they took off across the floor.

* * *

By the time Blaine had ordered another drink, the twins had miraculously appeared again without a single warning sound. 

  
“Christ! Who are you people and what are you doing here?”

  
“You know, Anderson,” one blond sat down on his left, nodding to the bartender.

  
“When most people go out to drink, they try to have a good time.” The other twin sat to Blaine’s right, indicating to the bartender to double the order.

  
“Don’t tell me that Shane’s been talking to the two of you trying to get me figured out.”

  
“Oh not at all.”

  
“Only told us your name.”

  
“We can figure you out on our own.” 

  
Blaine sighed into his glass, eyes shut and shoulders clenched together. 

  
“So where’d you take him?”

  
“If you’d stop your sulking you’d see.”

  
Hesitantly, Blaine picked himself up from the bar top and craned his neck around to look at the floor. Sure enough, Shane had taken up with some girl and they controlled the dance floor. Others had begun to watch them. 

  
“Who is she?”

  
“Katherine Rivers.”

  
“Age twenty-three.” 

  
“Engaged to David Sullivan.”

  
“The piano player over there.”

  
“About a year ago she nearly died from a bout with tuberculosis.” 

  
“Catholic born and raised, she claimed she saw the Blessed Virgin and everything.”

  
“When she came back from her short visit to the other side, she had a new conviction about life.”

  
“And that philosophy is to not give a damn about anything.”

  
“She does what she likes now and doesn’t care what anybody things.”

  
“She told her parents she wanted to marry a black man and they disowned her.”

  
“It’s a shame, really. They make a great pair.”

  
“Finally found a priest who’ll take them in.” 

  
Blaine cut in. “I just asked you where you took my brother, not for a history of some girl he’s taken up with.” 

  
“Oh, I think we all know he’s not taken up with a girl of any sort, Mr. Anderson.” 

  
“In fact, I think we all know why neither of you came here with a dame on your arm.”

  
Blaine gave each twin a side eye in turn. “What are you insinuating here, gentlemen?”

  
“Nothing that you weren’t already thinking, we’re sure.” 

  
The Senior Anderson finished his drink, the last one he needed to swallow his pride. 

  
“Alright,” he sighed.

* * *

“Reed, do you dance, by chance?” 

  
Reed giggled. “Well I know how to in theory, I suppose. But I’ve always been too clumsy to get to be any good at it.”

  
“Oh you simply must, darling!” Merril insisted. Grabbing a hold of Spencer’s shoulder, she turned his attention from a group of other young men with whom he sat right next to her. “Spencer, dear, your sister is here tonight, yes?” 

  
He simply nodded. 

  
“Could you possibly go fetch her, if you please? Reed here needs somebody to dance with.” 

  
Spencer shifted his gaze to Reed and looked him over intimidatingly.

  
“Sure thing.” He shrugged and nodded before taking off. 

  
“What did you just do?” a bewildered Reed asked Merril.

  
“Oh don’t worry, you’ll be fine. If anything, you two have something to talk about at least.”

  
“And what is that exactly?”

  
“Well, me of course.” 

* * *

Despite Merril’s good intentions, she could not have picked a worse dance partner for Reed. For one thing, Sydney Willis exceeded him in both height and strength. But also, she could carry herself gracefully and assuredly while dancing, having years of Southern social training and finishing school. 

  
Reed’s formal dance training had stopped after the third lesson when his partner became too embarrassed to dance with him anymore. Sydney also had a commanding demeanor and came across as aggressively strong. Her behavior shifted constantly between habitual, forced charm and borderline bombast. Reed, ever-so-slightly intoxicated and uncoordinated by nature, simply couldn’t keep up with her banter or her feet. Even though she ended up leading, they still bumped into countless couples in their path. 

  
“You’re a regular dead hoofer aren’t you?” 

  
Reed could barely follow her steps let alone her colloquialisms. “Excuse me?” 

  
“Where’d you learn to dance?”

  
He looked at her with a blank yet confused expression. 

  
“You didn’t. Well that explains a lot, doesn’t it?”

  
Reed could not remember anybody ever treating him with such impoliteness before. But he didn’t have time to think about it long because almost immediately after the thought occurred to him, the ill-matched partners bumped into another pair on the floor. 

  
“Gagh!”

  
“Whoa there!”

  
“Jesus!”

  
“What happened?” 

  
Amidst the calamity, Shane had backed into Reed, causing him to fall forward onto Sydney, who did not take well to the ordeal. She pushed Reed off of herself, causing him to stumble. Shane watched, instinctually ready to move away or move in to catch anyone who might tumble. Katherine looked on with confusion. 

  
Once Reed had regained his balance, he turned to face the person he felt behind him. Shane, prepared to play the charmer as always, turned on the effects. But once he caught sight of Reed’s face, the act fell apart. Something close to shock spread across his face and the capacity for speech temporarily failed him. Reed looked back at him, unable to comprehend the gravitas of this gaze. 

  
“Oh.” It took Shane a moment to say it—flat, bare, open, without flourishment. 

  
“Oh?” Reed asked, rather befuddled. 

  
“Oh.” It came to Shane quicker this time. “Oh. Oh, my. Erm, I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

  
“Yes…” Reed hung on to the word, deciding whether or not to end the statement.

  
“I’m Shane, by the way. Shane Anderson.” 

  
Reed’s expression fell in between perplexed and taken aback. 

  
“Reed Van Kamp.” 

  
Shane was quickly regaining his composure. “Well, Mr. Van Kamp, like I said, I’m terribly sorry. Would you allow me to make it up to you by buying you a drink?”

  
The scale tipped to full-on shock. “I really don’t believe that it was your fault, even. You don’t have to make up for anything.” 

  
“Even though I would have to disagree with you there, would you still allow me to treat you to a drink?” 

  
“Sure.” Reed replied too quickly for his own comfort, as if speaking from some force beyond him. 

  
“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll just leave the two of you to it, then.” Both Reed and Shane looked away from each other for the first time when Katherine spoke up. Sydney had long since left.

  
Katherine nodded at Shane. “You know you really do know what you were doing. You have to let me know if you would like to dance again.” 

  
“All right, Miss.” He gave her his golden grin and a wink. “I’ll be keeping in touch.” 

  
She smiled in return and offered a polite wave to both of them before walking off. When Reed turned to search for Sydney, he found that she had already left.   
“Oh. Looks like it’s just us then.”

  
“Then would you like to come with me?” Shane now directed that grin at Reed, and he found its impact slightly startling. He hadn’t even noticed that Shane had extended his hand, but he took it as soon as he did.

  
Reed questioned his decision as this man pulled him along. He just seemed to blend so well with the night club air. His steps tapped a skilled staccato across the floor in time with the jazz rag that the band played. His eyes shone with the same inviting brightness that hovered over the city in a warm, luscious haze. Reed couldn’t walk down the street without finding the same kind of energy and parlor-trick charm so captured in a young hopeful, so he had no earthly idea why this individual stood out to him so strongly. 

  
He reassured himself with the fact that he could simply leave at any time should he feel uncomfortable, but he also tried to suppress the rising suspicion in his gut that he would not want to leave. 

  
Shane slung himself onto a barstool, nodding at Reed to do the same. 

  
After they had ordered, Shane turned to face him, resting his head on his hand which he propped on the bar top. He gazed at him with unashamed interest. He displayed a blissful abandon but had a cheeky glint in his eyes. 

  
“So, Reed.”

  
Reed acknowledged him, shifting his focus with an alarming amount of responsiveness.

  
“Cash or check?”

  
He looked at Shane again with confusion, his head slightly tilted. 

  
“I thought you had offered to pay.” 

  
He didn’t know why Shane laughed so much , or why he kept looking at him like that. 

* * *

All this time, the twins had set to conspiring in their matchmaking with Blaine until the three of them had agreed on a candidate. 

  
“Now, he won’t be him, but he’ll be with him.”

  
“He’s actually in his show that’s on right now.”

  
“Real theatrical type. Thought you’d like that.”

  
“Hey! That was me who said that.”

  
“Not that it really matters, does it, brother?” 

  
Before they had gotten any farther into the thick of the argument, a great din occurred. Excited gasps and rushed shuffling overpowered the music as most of the club’s patrons hurried to the entrance to catch a glimpse of what was going on. 

  
“He should be there!” The twins rang out together. “Just give things a moment to die down and we’ll make sure you can talk to him.”   
“What exactly is going on?” Blaine demanded. 

  
“We told you!”

  
“He’s in a show with Julian Larson.” 

  
“That little prima donna strikes up quite the scene wherever he goes.”

  
“Even when he’s not on stage.”

“Or on the silver screen.” 

  
While trying very hard to appear as if he weren’t making an effort, Blaine strained his neck trying to find the starring name among the crowd. 

* * *

“What do you think’s going on?” Reed asked halfway through his first drink with Shane. 

  
Shane shrugged his shoulders, but nonetheless seemed to thoroughly be enjoying himself through any happening that evening.   
The bartender had overheard. 

  
“Oh, that? That’s Julian Larson,” he told them with nonchalance. 

  
“The actor?” Reed appeared a bit bewildered. 

  
“The one and only. He and Sigerson are friends from way back, so he drops by when he can, buys a round for everyone then dances with all his new friends. Always has a girl on one knee and some lad on the other when he sits down.” 

  
“Well, what do you know?” Reed meant it passively, but still received a reply.

  
“Me? Not much. Not really my interest, as far as I’m concerned. But there’s rumor that recently he’s taken up with the son of some politician.” 

  
“Really?” 

  
“Just what I’ve heard.” 

* * *

Once Julian Larson had seated himself with his entourage of professionals, fellow actors, friends, and slightly-more-than-friends—the lot of them taking up an entire grouping of tables—the twins approached him, Blaine instructed to follow. 

  
“Jules!” They exclaimed with identical beaming grins. 

  
It would look as if the three had entered some sort of competition to see who had the widest smile with the look on the actor’s face. That grin had scrolled across theaters and graced the covers of raggish newspapers throughout the entire nation. Faced with it head-on, it made Blaine slightly uncomfortable, as if it were too familiar to behold in real life. 

  
“Hello!” he cried back gaily. 

  
“So what’s your news?”

  
“Besides what we read in the papers, of course.”

  
“Why that’s just a load of farce, surely you boys know that.” He carried himself in such a peculiar way, thought Blaine. He had an aura of confidence that seemed too genuine to be true. And he had addressed the twins as “boys” even though they all appeared around the same age.   
“We’ve heard some more.”

  
“Like you’ve caught up with an old friend of ours.”

  
Julian Larson only raised his eyebrows with a challenging smugness. He dug a cigarette and a box of matches out of his jacket pocket and proceeded to light one and hang it from the corner of his self-assured mouth. 

  
He shook his head, smiling with his eyes closed. “You sorry bastards.” 

  
“Well if you’re not going to tell us about your love life..."

  
“We’re going to work on somebody else’s.”

  
“Where’s that new boy of yours?”

  
Julian Larson pondered for a minute, as if wondering which boy in his posse they could have meant. 

  
Eventually, he nodded to his right. “Kurt, looks like you’re being called for your next audition.” 

* * *

Reed could not believe how much he was enjoying himself in the company of a man whom he had met less than an hour before. But with someone as endearingly charming as Shane Anderson, he found himself hard pressed to not have a good time. 

  
He still didn’t feel the desire to admit to liking him in any way, however. In fact, the thought frightened him in a way that he could not acknowledge.   
But he had spent two drinks with him and felt warm and giddy. He wished that he could blame the alcohol. 

  
Shane made him laugh again and again with his corny jokes and stories about escaping sticky situations in Colorado, where he had lived until recently in the mountains while going through his self-pronounced “Walden Phase,” which he gave up due to loneliness, boredom, and cold. Yet he also inquired so much about Reed, and hung on to every word that left his mouth as if dependent on them. 

  
Nobody had ever asked Reed so many questions with genuine interest before in his life. Where was he from? What did he do? Was he really an artist? Did he have any examples of his art?

  
Shane told Reed story after story about his misadventures out West that had convinced him to return to the city. After hearing about his failures at hunting, Reed was laughing so much that Shane simply sat back and watched him with wonder. Once Reed regained his self-composure, he noticed the look, which caused him to fall silent, simply returning the expression. They stared at each other like that for quite a while, considering the situation. 

  
And then, the great calamity occurred when a couple of shouts and screams alerted the speakeasy that the police had arrived. People went about scurrying to get out or at least dispose of their drinks, many of them by swallowing the remainder in one swig. The bartenders moved into some form of unspoken, prepared ritual of removing as many liquor bottles as possible. As the club had only one entrance, nobody could get in our out easily. 

  
Panic-stricken, Reed looked about, desperately searching for a solution out of this mess in vain. Shane grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him off his barstool. To Reed’s amazement, he had kept his balance somehow, but he didn’t have time to marvel at the fact because Shane had already begun to pull him along in a direction that definitely did not lead to the door. 

  
“Come on, with me!” he shouted quickly over his shoulder in Reed’s direction. Before he knew it, Shane had pulled him behind the bar before tugging him down to the floor. Reed looked frightfully confused as Shane kicked away a loose floor tile that had been hastily and horribly jammed back into place. Its removal revealed a leather strap handle, which Shane pulled without second thought. A hinge opened, and a section of the floor lifted up as a hidden door. 

  
The room below was dark, but not completely without light. Reed could see the damp concrete floor and smell the evidence of mildewing. A short, wooden ladder lay at the bottom, recently kicked away. 

  
“Can you jump?” Shane asked immediately.

  
“What!” 

  
Shane only looked at him with a natural sense of urgency.

  
“Jump. Can you do it?”

  
Reed had never given anyone such an incredulous reaction in his entire life. His face said it all. 

  
Instead of making any further demands, Shane simply took charge and quickly eased himself into the entrance before dropping down below. He landed in a crouch, making sure he had his wits and balance about him, before rushing for the ladder. In a great feat of speed, he had it propped against the entrance.   
“Come down! And close the door behind you!”

  
Reed wasted no time in scurrying down the ladder, blindly trusting Shane to keep it steady for him. He clasped the opening shut once more and descended the rest of the way. 

  
As soon as he reached the bottom, Shane grabbed hold of his hand again and took off. Reed had not even noticed the stairway along the wall. By the time it had come to his attention, Shane was pulling him up it. They then crossed a brief landing before spilling out into an alleyway. The rain had let up some, leaving the streets slickened and the air heavy. But a bit of a drizzle still murmured outside.

  
All this way, Reed had not lost his balance once. But he tumbled over his own feet when they came to a stop and fell into Shane. Luckily, he caught Reed. And they stayed like that for a few moments, clinging to one another and catching their breath. 

  
Once his heartbeat had slowed some and his adrenaline levels had dropped, Reed finally spoke. 

  
“How… How could you have possibly known to do that?” 

  
“I saw the bartender disappear that way,” Shane panted out between breaths. “It just kind of all went by survival methods after that.” 

  
“Oh…” Reed didn’t know what else to say. 

  
“Yeah…” 

  
Another moment passed, still hanging onto one another. 

  
“You know, I can honestly say that I have never met anyone like you in my entire life.” 

  
Shane pulled away, breaking them apart and looked down “Well I’ve never heard it phrased that way before, but you’re welcome.” 

  
“No, no no!” Reed quickly assured him. “Nothing like that. It’s just… Gee…” he looked up at Shane, not knowing what to say. In that gaze, his breath returned to the shallow state he had just worked to escape. He felt just a tad bit nervous. 

  
“I suppose what I’m trying to say is… I’m really glad that I did meet you. And I don’t just mean anybody like you, but you. I don’t think I would quite admire somebody else so much who wasn’t you, not that I particularly—” 

  
“Reed,” Shane interrupted.   
“Yeah?” he whispered. 

  
“I’m really glad I met you, too.” 

  
“Oh. Good.” 

  
They still continued standing there, words going unspoken between them. Eventually, Shane spoke up again, that mischievous gleam returned to his eye.   
“So,” he began once again. “Cash or check?”

  
The question made even less sense to Reed the second time. He tilted his head and squinted at Shane in his confusion. 

  
Shane laughed to himself. “Cash it is, then.” 

  
His fingers reached up between the two of them and took hold of Reed’s chin. He nodded at him, confirming that Reed knew and embraced what was about to happen.   
The slightest of a nod convinced him to bring up Reed’s face as he lowered his own, their lips meeting somewhere in the middle. 

  
Reed had never kissed anyone before in his life, so he did not quite know what to expect. He only knew that he could barely sense Shane’s body so close to his own over his excitement. He could only hear his own heartbeat, only feel the tempest of his own stomach. 

  
But before he could even recognize any of this, Shane pulled away from him with an even greater gentleness than before. His expression was filled with guessing hope and the slightest hint of hesitation. Reed wondered if he had made up the entire thing in his head. 

  
With an unknown courage, Reed assured himself of this reality. He grabbed hold of Shane and pulled him in again. He kissed him without resistance this time, allowing himself to take in the experience. The other body felt warm next to his own, and embraced him in that warmth when Shane wrapped his arms around him. That warmth triggered a spark within him, one that he had not known before—something thrilling and vibrant and loud.

  
He had no reason to doubt Shane’s lips upon his own, for they pressed there with a reassuring firmness. Before this moment, Reed had never understood the appeal in using tongue to kiss, but when he felt Shane’s, it seemed more than logical. He couldn’t describe the taste of another human mouth, but he savored it nonetheless.   
Neither had any idea how long they remained like that, fully embraced in one another, and neither particularly cared. But they had to stop eventually, leaving the pair looking at one another with a peculiar sense of familiarity. They didn’t say anything.

  
The blunt smack of shoes rushing on pavement interrupted the moment. A voice yelled out.

  
“Jesus, Shane, there you are! Stop milling about, we’ve got to go!” 

  
Blaine stood at the alleyway entrance, panting heavily from rushing about. 

  
Shane looked at him, confuddled. 

  
“We can’t get caught here! The both of you better hurry out if you don’t want to wind up arrested—or worse, in the papers.” 

  
Shane glanced back to Reed, who only nodded at him. 

  
“You should go,” Reed told him.

  
“What about you?”

  
“I’ll leave, too.”

  
“When can I see you again?” Shane asked with a plea in his voice.

  
“I don’t know.”

  
“I want to see you again.”

  
“Me too.”

  
All of this had happened in hurried whispers meant to last only between the two of them. Blaine grew impatient at the end of the alley.   
“Shane! Hurry it up!”

  
In a fleeting moment, Shane kissed Reed goodbye with a rushed urgency before taking off. He glanced back at Reed again and again as he left. 

  
Reed stood in the alley, dazed with no desire to move until somebody else came out of the door that led back to the nightclub. 

  
“Glad to see you made it out alright!” The figure shouted shouted. “We don’t usually get this much action, but at least it’s never dull, right?”

  
Reed turned to the call and found the young man who had brought him to this place earlier that night. It seemed like ages had passed since then.   
“Oh. Hello.” He didn’t even remember the boy’s name. 

  
“So what’d you think of your first time out, huh?” Sebastian kept his cool, smug smirk. 

  
Reed didn’t respond. 

  
“What’s the matter, kid? Did something happen?”

  
After another moment, he finally spoke.

  
“Yes. Something did happen,” he said pointedly. “You know, I never got the chance to say it earlier, but I would like to thank you for bringing me out here tonight.” 

  
Sebastian shrugged. “No problem.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Potentially triggering content: Blaine displays signs of internalized homophobia, it is mentioned in passing that Katherine's family has disowned her for wanting to marry someone from a different race. 
> 
> For those of you wondering, "cash or check" is antiquated slang popular in the 20s meaning "shall we kiss now, or later?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're joining in for a second chapter of this please know I love you! 
> 
> Again, some content warnings at the end notes of the chapter.

As soon as possible, Blaine had hailed a taxi into which he shoved his brother and himself. He chose to think solely about getting as far away from this place as he could, but Shane could only keep focus on one thing. He kept talking about that boy he had met. 

“I mean, did you _see_ him, Blaine? Did you _look_ at him? I swear, it’s some sort of magic when I look at him.” 

“No, Shane, I can’t say that I did. I was a bit preoccupied with saving your sorry can.” The elder Anderson shook out his hat to dry off the rain that had collected in the brim. The dislodged droplets caused the driver to grumble something unintelligible under his breath. Blaine removed a cigarette case from his inner jacket pocket and lit one. 

“I thought you didn’t smoke.” It was the first thing to escape Shane’s mouth that didn’t concern Reed. 

Blaine shrugged and released a drag of smoke. “I only do when something’s really bothering me.” 

“And what would that be?” Shane asked with a total lack of self-awareness. 

His brother cut a glance at the cab driver. “Let’s just finish this conversation when we’re alone.” 

“Okay.” A beat passed. “So what about you? Did you meet anyone?” 

“I said when we’re _alone_ , Shane.” 

Shane sighed and leaned against the coarse seat of the cab. Two thoughts raced through his head, and those were that the last place he wanted to go was to the family’s midtown apartment, as accommodating as it might be, and also the question of where Reed had ended up in the past few moments, or where he would end up tomorrow morning, or tomorrow night, or a week or a year from now for that matter.

* * *

The next morning, Reed’s headache surprised him and encouraged him to stay in bed. Every responsibility he had or consequence he might face slipped from his mind as he refused to transition into another day, because facing a new sun meant that the glamor of the previous night had passed, or worse, that he had only dreamed the entire thing. That Sebastian boy had walked him back to his building late the previous night. He left with the the doorman, who thought that Reed hadn’t noticed him sneak out. 

But Reed didn’t care. He knew not to concern himself with other people’s business, and after only one night out, he had come to realize that he had no reason to pass judgment on anyone. 

This thought alerted him to the fact that somebody else in his household did _not_ reserve judgment so graciously. He rose immediately when he thought of the inevitable disaster that would come when he met his mother that morning. 

He turned to the clock on his nightstand and instantly whispered a quiet “damn!” beneath his breath. He didn’t swear often, but he knew he was in for it when he realized that he had missed breakfast.

He scurried through the motions as quickly as he could without causing serious bodily injury to himself. He washed his face in the basin in his bedroom, and combed his hair with only his fingers—a proper comb wouldn’t have garnered any better results, anyway. Reed pulled a freshly-starched shirt and firmly-pressed pair of pants from his closet and put them on in a flash. He brushed his teeth with haste and caught his reflection in the mirror. He took a self-collecting deep breath before leaving the room. 

Hilde was nearly ready to leave for the day when Reed found her seated in front of her vanity, her personal dresser putting the last pins in the tight, low bun pulled at the base of her neck. 

He stood in the doorway of her bedroom, waiting for his mother to acknowledge him. She didn’t say anything for another moment or two, when she raised her hand to the girl fixing her hair. 

“That will be enough, thank you,” her tone remained as cool as ever. The girl took this as her cue, and stepped out of the room. Reed had to shuffle awkwardly around her when she reached the doorway. 

Hilde remained in her seat, eyes fixed on the mirror, inspecting her stylist’s work. The longer she didn’t speak, the more Reed’s anxiety built. 

“You would think that after coming home so late, after leaving with no explanation whatsoever, that my son would have the decency to at least wake up on time so that he could explain himself.” She kept her gaze on the mirror. 

Reed flushed to his collarbone and his eyes fell to the floor. He waited for his mother to continue, but she didn’t say another word. 

“I’m sorry, Mother,” he told her, forcing his voice to remain steady and audible.

“Reed.” She turned to him at last, and her piercing glare made Reed wish that she hadn’t. 

She needn’t say anything else. Her tone and look made up for all the lecture that she could have given aloud. With a sharp precision, Hilde rose from her chair and walked herself to the doorway of the apartment where her dresser met her with her coat and purse. Her heels clicked against the marble tile of the foyer with an unpleasant flatness, like fattened raindrops splattering on hot asphalt. 

“Don’t forget, we have a luncheon today. _Please_ don’t be late again.” And with that, she turned a heel and left. 

* * *

Blaine left his own home early that same morning, hoping to leave before Shane could corral him into some new obscurity. He spoke of nothing else but that boy from the night before, despite his brother’s pleas otherwise. Blaine had ended up falling asleep with a pillow tugged over his ears in hopes of muffling Shane’s constant chatter while he sat at the foot of Blaine’s bed. 

When he woke up the next morning, he had counted on Shane falling into one of his usual visiting habits—either sleeping away the day after exhausting himself all night, or waking up before anyone else, convinced that he didn’t need sleep on vacation. Blaine expected that the previous night’s drinking would encourage his brother to sleep in. When he heard no one else’s footsteps in the apartment, he let out a sigh of relief and set about his morning routine before heading off to work.

He arrived at the office building, greeted the receptionist and elevator operator the same as he did every morning before taking the elevator to his office floor. He unlocked the door and screamed when he found Shane laid out on the sofa in his office. 

“Finally you’ve found your way up here. I was starting to get worried. It is your office after all, you of all people should be able to find it.” 

“Shane!” the other Anderson cried out. “What the _devil_ are you doing?” The shock had knocked the breath out of him.

“Why, I’m waiting for you, of course. Or rather, I was. Seeing that you’re here now that’s not exactly true anymore.” 

“But _why_ are you waiting for me? And _why here_ , of all places?” Shane’s frivolous maturity weighed on Blaine’s patience. He spoke with the slowness and force that he might have used to address a young child.

“Well, that’s simple. I wanted to talk more last night, but you fell asleep, didn’t you? So I figured I’d take a walk. Only everything was closed by then. By the time I realized this, I was closer to here than the apartment, plus I knew you’d be coming by.”

“Jesus, Shane! You can’t just pull that kind of thing. How long have you even been here?” 

“I dunno.” 

“Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Don’t think so.” 

Blaine sighed, resigning himself to exasperation. “How did you even get _in_ here in the middle of the night?” 

“Brother, it’s the banking _office_ , not the bank itself.”

“I don’t think that I want to know how you learned those kind of skills.” 

“Then we can change the subject. You bummed on me last night.”

“Do you mean to tell me that you’ve been up all night, broke into my office, and scared me half to death to talk about _that_ , still?

“Of course.” Shane beamed at his brother, making Blaine raise his hands to massage out the new knots forming at his temples. They only formed when Shane caused him trouble, so he affectionately named them after his younger brother. 

“You don’t understand, Blaine. I have to see him again. But you were being such a prick last night in making me leave that I didn’t even get a chance to learn his address, or his telephone number, or even his full name for that matter.”

“Keep your voice down!” Blaine hissed. He looked up and down the hall outside the office to make sure no passersby had caught wind of what Shane had said. He shut and locked the door before turning to Shane, the pieces falling into place for him.

“You kissed someone whose full name you didn’t even know?” He asked. Blaine’s exasperation had turned incredulous. 

“Yes I did. A few times, actually. And it’s not that I never got around to learning his name, but rather, I can’t seem to remember it. It’s Van or Von something, I believe… But I’m not quite sure.”

“Jesus Christ, Shane. You must have been even more drunk than I thought. ” His headache only grew. 

Shane ignored the jab. “But now, I have to see him again. I have to learn his name, and a lot else about him for that matter.” Shane’s pleadings bordered on childish, a tone that Blaine knew to mean that he had a set goal, and he would do anything to meet that goal. Unfortunately, though, such schemes usually involved Blaine whether he wanted to participate or not. 

He spoke slowly, planning out his words with caution. “Why don’t you just try going back to that club tonight and looking for him? If he wants to see you again, he’s probably trying to do just that.” 

Shane’s face light up. “By God, man, of course! It’s so obvious. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you’ve not had a wink of sleep since you met him. And even worse, you’ve focused so much on him that you haven’t even considered a plan to see him again.” 

Shane jumped up from the office sofa at last, strode over to his brother, grabbed his face, and gave him an overly-affectionate kiss on each cheek. 

Blaine just stood there, unsurprised by any way in which Shane might react. 

“You’re brilliant, Blaine, you know that?”

“I’m somewhat aware, thank you. Now please, for goodness sakes, go home and get some rest. Heaven knows what’ll happen to you in between now and tonight if you don’t.”

“That reminds me, will you be joining me this evening?”

“For another night of drunken misbehavior and running from the cops? No thank you.” Blaine gave something of a scoff at the idea. 

“But what about that fellow you met last night? Don’t you want to see him again?”

Blaine decisively dropped the subject. “ _Go home,_ Shane.”

* * *

Reed and his mother hardly passed a word between them that day. The only real communication that they had—other than trivial niceties—came through across tense body language, making Reed feel sick for most of the day. Weighing the benefits of this job against its cost, he asked himself again why he kept this form of employment. But as his mother constantly reminded him, he was in luck with his job, and trying to work anywhere else would be nearly impossible. 

He and Hilde arrived once again at their apartment at the end of the day, once again just like any day other full of the same drab ideas, dull meetings, excruciating luncheons, office gossip, and ceaseless debate over one topic or another that sucked the life out of Reed just as much as it was meant to inspire him. He had made up his mind much earlier to try to return to the nightclub. Only one problem stood in the way between what was expected of him and what he wanted: his mother. 

She took action fast. The moment they entered the apartment, she informed Reed that he should go change for the evening. 

“Whatever for?” he asked.

“We’ve plans tonight. We’re going for supper with some important man from the financial district and his son, who’s emerging in the business himself.”

“Another meeting? I don’t remember this on the agenda.” Hilde Van Kamp rarely took care for any financial planning of her cooperation—she had people she hired for that.

“New plans. They’ve requested to meet with me personally, and I do not exactly have the most flexible schedule.” Reed knew that she must have fished some last-minute plan to keep an eye on him that night. He reasoned, however, that one meal couldn’t last too long, and to his advantage, he could sneak away from his mother easier on the town rather than at home.

“We also have theater tickets with them for afterwards,” she added. Reed’s stomach sank.

* * *

Blaine looked himself over in the mirror, slicking his hair back with a new, fragrant pomade.

“If that’s where the new style is going, I’d rather be unfashionable, thanks,” came a voice from behind him. 

He sighed. “Did I ask you, Shane?”

“Well not exactly, no. But the smell of that boot polish is enough to beg the question.”

“You always know that if you don’t like it, then you don’t have to hang around me.”

“That’s actually what I came to ask you about.”

“Come again?” Blaine questioned.

“Have you made a decision about tonight? You coming or not?”

“Oh, yeah, about that, Blaine began. “I’ve had a last-minute supper engagement come up. I might be able to join you later on, or you’re welcome to come along to eat with us, of course.”

“Last-minute supper engagement?” repeated Shane. 

“It’s business-related. I’m going with Dad.”

“Well, in that case, I certainly don’t want to go.” 

“I suppose you’re on your own for the evening, then,” Blaine said. 

“I think I can take care of myself for one night.” The glimmer had returned to Shane’s eye.

* * *

“Mrs. Van Kamp, how wonderful it is to see you!” A man stood from his place at the table when Hilde and her son approached him. He greeted Hilde by taking both of her gloved hands that she offered him in his own and kissing them. 

She nodded in exchange, smiling politely. “Mr. Anderson.” 

“And this must be your son,” he gestured to Reed. 

“Oh, yes. This is Reed.”

Reed put out his own hand, which Mr. Anderson quickly grasped with a firmness that nearly threw Reed off balance. If he seemed startled, this stranger took no notice. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Reed Van Kamp.”

“Likewise, sir.” 

“I would imagine that you’re of about the same age as my own boy here.” Mr. Anderson moved aside to encourage his son to join the rest of the party in standing. “This is Blaine.” 

Before Reed and Blaine even went to shake hands, a look passed between them. Reed passed through confusion, recognition, shock, to panic. Blaine showed initial startlement, realization, and dreadful horror. It was as if they had entered an unofficial competition to become the least composed before either of their parents noticed anything strange. 

“Reed, is something wrong?” Hilde asked. 

“What?” Though he stumbled to regain his tone, the color had not returned to Reed’s face. 

“You seem suddenly ill. Are you alright?”

“Oh. Yes. Yes, of course. It’s just that…” he looked to Blaine, asking for help.

“I believe,” he interjected, “that your son and I have met before, Mrs. Van Kamp.” 

“Is that so?” she questioned. 

“Yes. It must have been at some event or another.” 

“Well there’s no need to look so startled, son.” Mr. Anderson rested his palm on Blaine’s shoulder. 

Blaine shook his head. “Of course not. It just caught the both of us off-guard, I believe.” 

Reed nodded in agreement, thanking Blaine as earnestly as he could without saying anything. 

Blaine turned to Hilde. “Mrs. Van Kamp, where are my manners? You must forgive me. It’s lovely to meet you.” He greeted her in the same fashion as his father. She gave him a glance of approval. 

“Shall we?” Mr. Anderson asked, and they all took their seats at the table. 

Dinner passed with about as much comfort possible for a group that had had to meet under false circumstances and whose members really had no business together, and half of whom were more acquainted than they cared to admit. But upper class manners and politeness kept things in tact enough that the party could make it to the theater. 

Blaine had insisted that they take two cabs from the restaurant. He pushed his argument about space and comfort more than he needed to, so nobody could really argue with him. He climbed into a cab after Reed and turned off his diplomatic charm as soon as the door had closed.

“You know I really shouldn’t be telling you this, but my brother simply will not stop talking about you.”

Reed looked stunned. 

“I figured you would want to know. You’ve been acting as if you’re on the edge of your seat all evening.”

True, Reed had hung on to everything Blaine had done and said that evening, usually without realizing it, waiting for him to drop some word about Shane. But despite all his preparation and anticipation, he still blushed when faced with the idea. He felt the heat rising to his face, making him even more embarrassed. He pretended to look out the window in hopes that Blaine could not see his face in the dark of the cab. He grabbed the side of the cab to steady himself. 

“And why shouldn’t you be telling me this?”

“Reed,” Blaine still breathed out the name with hesitation. 

“Please just tell me.” He hated the way that he was shaking. He didn’t even know why.

“It’s just that I can’t have anything bad happening to Shane, you see?” 

“Anything bad? I’m not sure I know what you mean.” Reed asked.

“Alright, I’m just going to put things out here as plainly as I can. I know Shane, of course. He has a tendency to develop...attachments to certain people very quickly. But then he tends to build himself up to something that isn’t there. Or something that can’t be there, for the good of everyone involved. And when the other person tells him that, things never go well.” 

“Are you saying he’s developed one of these attachments to me?”

“Absolutely.” 

If Reed had felt jittery before, it all seemed miniscule compared to the mixture of giddiness, joy, and fear that shot through his body now. “But you’re worried that I’ll hurt him.” 

Blaine took no time to dance around the subject. “Yes. It’s never good, when something like this happens. I don’t know if you can tell, but my brother isn’t exactly well-versed in the art of subtlety. And I’m sure you can imagine that we can’t have any word of his…” he looked anxiously at the driver and back to Reed “… _entanglements_ getting around town. I can take care of things on that end. But I can’t handle him heartbroken.” 

Reed wanted to laugh. He figured that even if Shane lacked subtlety, he had some sort of keenness when it came to reading people and situations. But it appeared to him that Shane’s older brother would fall on the opposite side of the spectrum, putting too much focus into technicalities that he left little room for interpretation. 

The rock in Reed’s stomach lifted. He smiled to himself. “I find it admirable that you want so badly to look after the welfare of your brother,” he said to Blaine. “But I think that should anything happen to us, _entanglement_ or otherwise, we should be able to handle it for ourselves.” 

Blaine had not expected that. He looked at Reed with a dumbstruck loss for words to find the blond looking up at him for the first time since entering the cab, and grinning in a state that some would call mad. He could see why Shane had taken such a strong interest in him, which he found both comforting and as a cause for alarm. 

Reed, beside himself with relief and giddiness, tried pressing things a little further. “You know, it sounds as if there’s nothing to prevent Shane and I from meeting again. Could you please let me know how I might go about doing such a thing?”

Blaine weighed his options for a sliver of a moment. He did not know why he trusted his instinct now. “He’s actually back at the same club from last night, hoping to run into you.”

“Well then, do you think that you’d be able to help me get to him as soon as the show lets out this evening?”

* * *

Shane sat at the bar where he had been with Reed the night before. He looked around for sight of the artist again and again, taking enough time for the bartender to insist that he either order or leave. He bought himself a drink and sat back again. 

A sweet, familiar voice sounded behind him. “Looking for that chap from last night?” 

He turned around to find Katherine, a knowing smile directed at him. 

“Mind if I take a seat?” she asked. 

“Of course not,” he smiled back. 

She settled herself into the barstool right next to Shane. “I take it things went rather well, then.” 

Shane couldn’t stop a smirk from forming on his face. 

“Why don’t you tell me more about it over a drink?” 

“Now I just think you’re trying to get a free drink.” 

“On the contrary—I’ll treat,” she told him, “as long as you agree to dance with me again.” 

“You know, if I didn’t know that you were engaged, I would think you’re trying to flirt with me.” 

She gave a warm, friendly laugh. “I thought we had agreed that I’m not your type. However, you are as good as you think you are.” 

“Well then, I’m glad I could please you.” 

They exchanged a smart glance before Katherine called for the bartender. 

“Now first,” she said, “tell me about that boy.” 

* * *

Reed had not even bothered to ask for which show they had tickets, but with all the other oddities and coincidences of that night, he was not too terribly surprised to find Julian Larson’s name above the marquee upon arriving at the theater. It did seem strange, however, to see him separated from reality on stage after nearly meeting him in person. 

Despite his trained appreciation for the theatre, Reed could not enjoy the show while thinking about Shane waiting for him in a dark cellar nightclub. The performance felt as if it would never end. Still, he had to restrain himself under his mother’s gaze. He worried that the entire audience could hear his heartbeat because he could barely hear the performers over the blood rushing through his veins. 

But eventually the curtain closed and he gave a courteous amount of applause, growing terse when the audience called for another chorus of bows. 

The group made its way back to the street, and Hilde suggested that she and Reed go home. 

“How about Reed and I take a trip through town?” Blaine proposed. Both his father and Hilde pinned him with sharp gazes. “Should it be alright with you, of course, Mrs. Van Kamp.” 

Reed fought the urge to gaze at Blaine in admiration. He could never play the game so well himself. 

Hilde shifted with obvious displeasure, but surrendered to the protocol of manners. 

“Reed, do _not_ stay out too late. We have plans tomorrow,” was all she said.

Reed nodded immediately in response with obedience. “Yes, mother.” He strained to not sound too eager. 

“I will see you at home then.” She bade him a curt farewell. The group exchanged obligatory goodbyes and Reed and Blaine took off. Not a word passed between them on the drive—Reed could not think of anything to say and Blaine seemed distracted. Blaine had the taxi cab stop a couple of blocks short of their destination.

“How did you ever learn about this place?” Reed asked curiously on the walk. “I mean, Shane only arrived in town a couple of days ago, so surely he didn’t know about it, did he?”

Blaine grimaced half-heartedly. “I actually used to come to places like this a lot before I got involved seriously with business. When the Volstead Act went into effect, I tried to be a bit more cautious. But I wasn’t cautious enough, I suppose. I got arrested one night. My father came to pick me up from the police station and ever since that night I’ve been working hard to keep myself out of trouble.” He told the story plainly enough, but he retracted into himself as he related it. All of a sudden, Blaine seemed to lose his air of confidence and suaveness. A pang in his stomach that had replaced the ceaseless flutters from a moment ago made him regret asking. His mind raced through possible responses, but none of them seemed appropriate. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, unsure of why he had ultimately picked that reply.

A sad smile replaced Blaine’s somber expression. “It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

By this point they had come to the entrance of the piano repair shop. They entered, making a beeline for the back door. The same man from the previous night responded to Blaine’s knocking. He gave the pair a skeptic once-over before judging them acceptable. Reed found himself descending the same staircase that he had only a day before, as nervous and full of unknowing curiosity tinged with dread as before, but with fresh reasoning. 

His eyes went first to where he and Shane had sat at the bar top together. He did not find him there, so he scanned the entire counter without success. He locked eyes with Merril, who enthusiastically waved at him. He waved back, relieved to find a familiar, friendly face already. 

He searched the dance floor next, with the same lack of success. 

“Are you sure he’s here?” he asked Blaine. 

“He told me that he would be.” 

“Perhaps we should have phoned for him.” 

“Let’s split up and look for him.”

Reed did not exactly take to the idea gladly, but he accepted it. Blaine started off in one direction, leaving Reed alone to look for Shane himself. 

He walked around in hopes of finding him, but Shane found him first.

* * *

Katherine had taken Shane to her table near the band, where she would sit and watch her fiancé and chat and drink and laugh with her friends. She introduced him to the rest of them. He met Justin and Charlie, a British noble and his “companion.” Justin had a feisty sister named Laura, a member of the new feminist party enrolled in university, although her area of concentration kept changing. And she had a much more collected friend, Sadie, though Shane suspected their relationship stretched beyond strictly platonic. He reunited with the twins, Ethan and Evan, thoroughly enthused to see him again and pestering him about what had happened after Katherine had left him on the dance floor last night. David introduced him to his best friend Wesley, an attractive, clean-cut young man who refused to share what he did for a living. 

He fit in perfectly with the band of new-age misfits, but the thought of Reed still pressed in his mind even with every joke that made him laugh or every dance that he shared with one of the girls. So when he finally laid eyes on him, he had to double-check to assure himself. He promptly excused himself from the table and darted between the scattered club-goers and couples along the way. 

“Reed!” he called out from behind when he finally reached him, not caring about any attempts to make a smooth entrance. 

Reed turned around, seemingly startled. But his shock turned into pleasure when he found Shane standing directly behind him, looking excited. 

“Shane!” he called out warmly. 

The two stood there, not sure how to proceed. 

“Blaine told me you’d be here.” Reed said at last. 

“Oh. Wow.” Shane seemed somewhat at a loss for words. 

“Yeah.” 

They just stared at one another. The both of them had built up so much anticipation towards this moment that it radiated between them. Neither had developed a plan past the point of seeing one another again, however. A moment passed in silence, then another. But it did not seem unpleasant or even awkward, only simple. 

“Reed, would you like to dance?” Shane asked at last, using his signature trick. It abandoned its cheeky front, though, seeming whole hearted and honest. 

Reed blanched. “I really don’t know how.” 

Shane smiled at him. “It’s alright. You don’t have to. I can show you.” 

He offered his hand for Reed to take. He accepted it tentatively. It seemed an intimate gesture, despite everything that had passed between them, both spoken and silent. 

Shane led them not to the dance floor, but to a darker corner of the club where there were no tables or other people, to Reed’s surprise. He had not even noticed the song that had started when Shane made the preposition. Only the piano played accompanied by a trumpet, singing out a slow, melodious tune. Shane positioned Reed, placing one hand on his waist and moving Reed’s hand to his own shoulder. He used his other hand to take Reed’s and began to move in a way quite simple to follow. 

Dancing with Shane felt utterly natural, not forced or complicated as when Reed had tried the same thing with other partners. Shane could lead well, but he also made it possible for Reed to feel the music. Reed had never danced with another man before, but it worked better than with any of his previous unlucky partners.

To Shane, holding Reed felt perfect, a word that several people had advised him against ever using. But it felt perfect. He had never enjoyed dancing more, and he didn’t need complicated steps and rhythms to feel that way. He admired Reed’s petite form, and how his hands fit seamlessly into Shane’s. The warmth of his body against his own reminded him of mending a stitch--bringing two broken pieces together to make something whole once more. 

Shane looked at Reed, who had hidden his face against Shane’s shoulder, and the walls inside of him crashed at the impossible roar of love that left him stuck between sickness and jubilance. 

Thankfully, the song changed. It picked up and Shane instinctively led the two into an appropriate swing, making Reed cry out in surprise. But when he saw Shane’s excitement, he gave a peal of laughter. 

* * *

Before Blaine could find his brother, the twins had captured him. 

“Back for more?”

“Glad you decided to come around again!” 

Blaine had both of his arms held by the Brightman brothers, and they were quickly leading him somewhere. He didn’t care even where they planned on taking him, he only knew that he did not want to fall subordinate to their schemes. 

“Please get off of me, I’m looking for my brother.” He kept his tone cordial, but had a sharp intent in his words. 

“Oh that one?”

“Don’t worry. We’ve already seen him.” 

“In fact, he’s found what he came here for.”

“And we’re sure he doesn’t want his dear brother mucking up things for him.” 

“So relax!” 

By this point, the twins had arrived with Blaine at the table from which Shane had left them. The rest of that party was still there, and they nudged Blaine into a chair. Before he could even get a decent look at his company, somebody had offered him a cigarette and another hand bore a lighter. He hadn’t even noticed that Ethan and Evan had removed his overcoat until he felt someone lift the low-drawn hat from his head. More than a bit startled, he gladly accepted the cigarette. 

The brothers who had brought him to this spot made the rounds of introductions, all too quickly for Blaine to keep track, especially with their rapid-fire teeter-totter dynamic. Everyone seemed friendly enough, which put him off even more. 

“So,” Evan began. 

“Tell us about yourself,” Ethan finished. 

“We want to know everything.” On the word “we,” the brother speaking made a miniscule gesture to the entirety of the nightclub.

* * *

Dancing with Shane, Reed realized how people could enjoy themselves dancing. With no expectations of him to lead, Reed fell into the steps with a fair amount of ease. Shane demanded nothing of him other than he put his trust in Shane to keep the both of them on their feet, a task that Reed found relatively simple. He lost count of how many songs played before having to call for a break, laughing the whole way from the spot that they had made their own personal dance floor. 

Shane grabbed them a table, offering Reed his seat before taking his own. They sat together, facing one another with excitement. 

“Tell me about yourself, Reed.”

“You mean besides what I told you last night?”

“There’s no way you could’ve told me everything. And even if you did, I could stand to hear it again.

“Well, I can’t quite remember what I told you and what I didn’t, so tell me if I’m repeating myself.”

“Okay.”

“I’m twenty-two,” Reed stated.

“You told me that much.” Shane rested his head in his hand and grinned.

“I don’t get out much. I’m never out like this at all, actually.”

“It’s a good thing you came out when you did, then.”

“I have no idea what I’m doing. I work for my mother and honestly I can’t stand it most of the time. I live with her, too. I wish that I didn’t but I do and now that I say it out loud I don’t know why.” At this point, Reed covered his mouth with his hand. Once the thoughts had formed in his head, he couldn’t stop them from spilling them out. He waited for Shane’s laughter to scorn him.

Instead, Shane extended his hand, placing it on Reed’s arm. He spoke with tenderness in both his touch and his voice. 

“It’s alright. You don’t have to be embarrassed or afraid around me.”

“It’s just… I don’t know you. But I want to. And—in a way, I feel like I already do? That’s odd isn’t it.”

“Not at all.”

Blaine’s warning about Shane forming attachments too quickly for his own good rings in Reed’s mind.

“Here, I have an idea. How about we tell each other a secret? That way, we get to know something about each other that nobody else does.” Shane’s eyes had a slight mischievous glint to them.

“Okay,” Reed agreed. “You go first, since it was your idea.”

“Give me a moment, I have to think of a good one.”

“But you thought of this in the first place!” Reed laughed.

“You’re right.” Shane paused for a moment in consideration. “I swapped my father’s good Scotch from pre-prohibition with gut rot to see if he’d say anything. So far he hasn’t.” 

“You didn’t!”

“I did, I swear!” Shane smiled. “Your turn.”

“Last night was my first kiss.”

“Really?”

Reed nodded.

“Well what did you think?”

“I think I’d very much like to do it again, if you felt so inclined.”

“As it happens, I do feel so inclined,” Shane said as he started to lean in towards Reed.

“Shane!” A voice calls out from across the floor.

Displeased and disgruntled, Shane looked to find one of the twins calling to him while the other beckoned him over.

“Check, then, I suppose…” Reed whispered.

“I see you’ve caught up on your colloquialisms.” Shane smirked at him.

Reed smiled back and shrugged.

Shane took his hand and led them both to the group gathered around the piano. 

“Your brother here was telling us that you just got into town!” Evan exclaimed.

“Which is good, because if you had been here all this time and we’d not crossed paths before this, we’d be offended,” said Evan.

“Sounds like you’re a real sportsman, too, huh? What with going out west and roughing it by yourself?”

“Well I wouldn’t say—” Shane began before Ethan interrupted him.

“You should come sailing with us! We’re having a party on our yacht next Saturday.”

“Everyone’s invited!” The other twin turned to Reed. “Would you like to join us?”

“I don’t see why not!” Reed said.

“Perfect!” The twins responded in unsettling harmony.

“Shane I’ve heard you’re a fantastic dancer!” Laura cut in. “Would you dance with me?”

“Of course,” Shane told her.

Reed twisted his head. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?” he asked Laura.

Laura turned to him and looked him up and down. “No, I don’t think so,” she said before pulling Shane to the floor in a rush.

Reed’s gaze followed the pair as they began dancing. Laura had more energy than a power plant, but Shane, it seemed, had no trouble keeping up with her. Reed looked at him and wished more than anything that he had more of a talent on the dance floor. He sighed, head full of maybes and possibilities.

Blaine watched Reed and pursed his lips.

“Reed!” A familiar voice rang out from behind him. He turned around to find Merril smiling at him, seated between some young women he hadn’t yet met.

“Merril!” He grinned at her.

“I know that look,” she told him, voice full of cheek with the slightest hint of mischief.

“What look would that be?” Reed felt as if the temperature in the club had suddenly risen.

Merril glanced at one of her friends. The two locked eyes and giggled.

“I forgot to give you my number yesterday, in case you’d ever like to talk,” she said without acknowledging the change in subject. She handed Reed a slip of paper with her phone number and address.

Reed quickly asked around for a pencil and piece of paper and gave her his information in exchange.

“I work afternoons and early evenings, but I’m usually home in the mornings, if you call.”

“Of course I’ll call,” said Reed. “Where do you work?”

“The makeup department at Lord and Taylor.”

“The makeup department at Lord and Taylor,” Reed repeated, trying to commit it to memory. He tucked the phone number into his pocket.

Shane returned, a vibrant Laura beside him in search of a new partner.

“Reed, can I borrow you for a moment?” he asked.

Reed turned to Merril. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” The cheekiness had returned to her expression.

Shane offered his hand and Reed took it, following along as Shane pulled him to an empty hallway off the side of the main room.

“What’s this place?” asked Reed.

“I dunno, just saw it and thought nobody would bother us here” Shane said before pulling Reed close to him.

Reed didn’t need any further direction. He reached his arms around Shane’s neck and pulled him in for a lively kiss. Shane wrapped his arms around Reed and met his fervor.

They remained like that for too long to keep count. Shane’s lips began wandering down Reed’s cheek and jaw, tracing the upper part of his neck. Reed sighed and held him close, burying his hands in Shane’s hair and giving it a slight tug.

“I want to see you again, just the two of us.” Shane whispered against his skin.

“Are you asking me for a date?”

“I absolutely am.” Reed could feel Shane’s smile, his lips pressed against him.

“I absolutely would love to,” Reed sighed.

“Gentlemen,” they heard from down the hall. They both looked up to see Derek walking towards them from what would appear to be the door to a back room. “We do ask you to keep your private life private. But we do have rooms available for rend upstairs, should you be in need…” he looked from one of them to the other.

The pair pulled apart, pulling themselves to a slightly more composed state. Shane cleared his throat. Reed resisted the urge to reach out and rearrange his hair for him.

“Thank you, good man, but we should be good for this evening.” Shane said.

Derek nodded and continued on his way.

Shane’s eyes locked on Reed’s.

Reed pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. He had made a second copy of his information when he had given it to Merril, expecting this. He offered it to Shane.

“Eight o’clock, Columbus Circle, tomorrow night.” He said.

Shane beamed. “It’s a date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: more internalized homophobia from Blaine, and Hilde is mildly manipulative and dismissive of Reed, similar to her behavior in canon. 
> 
> Comments and kudos keep my crops watered and my skin clear.


End file.
